Friday, June 08, 2007




Nothing like having a child with special needs to help you pound out what's left of your ego-driven ways.

My super athletic, super coordinated, super all American boy, husband, thought he'd have a little boy just like him someday. Well, he got one that LOOKS just like him alright. Darling dimples, same astigmatism, glasses, tall, skinny body. Problem is my husband hasn't found a sport yet he can't instantly excel in, and my nearly 11-year-old can't stand on one foot without falling to the ground.

My almost 5 foot son is still riding a bike with training wheels. The bike is TINY. We've put training wheels on a much bigger bike, but he won't touch that one with a ten foot pole. As my husband said, that's almost worse, having a full-sized bike with training wheels. So, my son continues to tool around the neigborhood on a bike intended for a toddler. My husband struggled with this up until recently, and then came to the same realization he always does eventually, "Who cares?"

As though Rojo energetically sensed his resignation, he upped the ante. He is now "The Ice Cream Truck" on his bike, and that requires that he carry my blue purse in his hands from which to distribute the ice cream.

I've cautioned my husband to resist accepting this too soon, or God only knows where it'll go from here.


Jerri said...

Resignation? Maybe.

Or, maybe celebration that Rojo wants to distribute ice cream. Anyone who doesn't like his vehicle doesn't get any!

I'll be first in line at his truck, no matter what it looks like.

Terry Whitaker said...

Beautiful, Effin Beautiful! I love Rojo at 1:52 ETA

Sue said...

Oh, the things we worry about, which boil down to mostly about what we imagine other people are thinking.

We had teeny miracle a couple of years ago. Grant was totally unable to ride a bike without training wheels long past his friends and his brother could, and was in intense occupational therapy for fine and gross motor coordination.

He was with a group of boys at the school down the street, and the boys were taking turns riding another boy's bike. I looked over and saw him taking his turn riding the bike. And I noticed that the bike didn't have training wheels! I squinted and thought, "Wait, is that GRANT?

When he came over to me, I said, "Hey, Grant, that bike you were riding didn't have training wheels!" And he said, "Yeah, I know. When I got on it, I thought it DID have training wheels, but it didn't. It was easy!"

We came home, and off came his bike's training wheels.

As you say, Carrie, there are no accidents!

kario said...



But what happens when he puts actual ice cream in your purse, or has he already done that? I've seen your purse and I can't imagine there's any room for melty, sticky things in there....

Anonymous said...

Sounds like a pretty fun and creative game to me. Letting Rojo be Rojo is a path that will be full of joy, challenging at times but never boring. We have to surrender because we have no idea where the road will take us. I do know it will be the right place. Love you.

Michelle O'Neil said...

If it makes you feel any better, Seth is riding a little pink number (also too small for him) with a basket and tassles (and training wheels)and he refuses to switch to the boy bike that is his size.

We get some looks, but couldn't care less.

Kim said...

I would pay serious money to buy ice cream from Rojo, no matter what that means! I love him at 9:50 AM EST.

And Stan is amazing for making the journey to "who cares?" every time. One of the many life lessons we can all learn over and over again from HH Rojo!

riversgrace said...

Again, I start to laugh and then want to cry, but then it's so frickin brilliant in a way that I laugh even harder. I love the one who is leading the pack free. And I love the commitment to love and letting go, again and again and again. Who true.

kario said...

Okay, trying my comment again - apparently it didn't take the first time:



But I do want to know what happens when he puts actual ice cream in your blue purse. How much will you care?

Bossy Boots said...

Writing tip (or is that riding)....I'd cut needs from any description of Sir RoJo. He is the emerging consciousness of our future...he is very special and that is all that needs to be on the page. Love this post and love that boy!

Jess said...

That's great. What an amazing kid. Takes a lot more courage to do things a little differently than to just be the same as everyone else.

I'd buy ice cream from him anytime.

Ya know, I'll miss seeing your family in Sisters... I'm sure they're glad to get to keep their house and all, but...

Nancy said...

I swear I mean to let you own this story, but... my son has gone from agonizing over looks that came from his resisting change, to acutually intentionally soliciting them as he (at 16 yrs old) rides his sister's pink Barbie scooter at the skateboard park. "Who Cares?" is totally the way to go.